


The End

by TanyaReed



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanyaReed/pseuds/TanyaReed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan faces the end.  Written for the I Need My Fics fic exchange on LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wanderlustlover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustlover/gifts).



Nathan's first indication that the end was coming was the feel of a drop of water hitting his cheek. He was busy loading lumber into the back of his truck at the time, so he frowned in annoyance and brushed it away. It was only as he was reaching for the next two-by-four that he realized what had happened.

Nathan froze in shock. His mind replayed the incident, which—for someone else—wouldn't have even been worth noting, but for Nathan was monumental. Had he really felt a drop of water on his face or had the sound of children playing in a nearby sprinkler made him imagine it?

Slowly, he reached down and touched the board. Nothing. No pressure against his fingers, no rough texture. To make sure, Nathan ran his hand over over the surface, straining to feel something, anything.

When there was no sensation, he shook his head and got back to work. His shed wouldn't build itself, and he didn't have time for fantasies.

As he drove home later, Nathan thought about the nature of touch. The ability to physically feel things was so important to other people, but he had learned to mostly live without it. His other senses had become stronger in the process, and he found he could enjoy things in a way most people couldn't. 

Still, there was one thing he _could_ feel.

His experiences with touch would have been non-existent without Audrey. At the thought of his best friend and partner, a small smile came to Nathan's face. There were a lot of things in his life he wouldn't have, if not for Audrey, and touch wasn't even the most important. Friendship, love, laughter, someone to talk things through with, someone to be himself with. Audrey knew him much better than anyone else ever had. _And_ he could feel her touch.

Nathan remembered the first time he realized that her skin negated his Trouble. A simple kiss on the cheek had left him shocked, excited, and even a little scared. He wondered then, and he still wondered, what it was about her that made a Trouble powerless. Maybe Audrey had a Trouble of her own. Nathan didn't know, and neither did Audrey. It was impossible since they didn't know who she really was or where she'd come from.

As he pulled up in front of his house, Nathan saw the object of his thoughts sitting on his front steps. Audrey was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and her hair was tied up in a messy ponytail. She grinned and waved when she saw him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with amusement as he parked his truck..

“I thought you might need some help.”

“All right,” he agreed readily. “Did you bring some gloves?”

“Sure.” She reached into her back pocket and drew out a pair with green polka dots.

“Cute.”

“Thanks.” Her expression told him she knew he was teasing. “I bought them after our last killer plant fiasco.”

Nathan remembered the case well. There had been a little girl with nightmares of Sleeping Beauty—and lots and lots of thorns.

Audrey pulled her gloves on with a look of concentration. “Okay, so where do you want them?”

“Over there.” Nathan waved at the tree line. It was late afternoon and the sun shone through the leaves, dappling the ground with shadows and light.

Nathan jumped off of the truck and popped the tailgate. With Audrey behind him, he pulled one of the boards towards them.

“Hey,” she commented, tapping his bare hand. “Where are yours?”

“Don't need 'em.”

“Just because you can't feel the splinters doesn't mean you can't get them.”

“I'm all right.”

“Nathan.”

“Audrey,” he said, mocking her tone.

“Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?”

“Yep. Here, grab this.”

She didn't argue any more. Instead, she grabbed the two-by-four as Nathan slid it towards her. She pulled it out of the truck and tucked it near her side to lug to the place Nathan had pointed out. He watched her a moment to make sure she'd be okay with the clumsy board before hauling out one of his own.

“What are you planning on using this shed for anyway?” Audrey asked as they tramped through the grass. “You're always working.”

“I'm not working now,” Nathan reminded her dryly.

“I suppose you're right.” She paused to wipe the back of her free hand over her forehead. “Not that we've been all that busy this week. Most of our cases weren't even Trouble related.”

“A fact we should be grateful for.”

“True. I'm not complaining.” Her board thumped as she dropped it to the ground. “But you didn't answer my question.”

Nathan let is own board slip from his hands. “Oh, this and...”

He stopped in mid-sentence, sucking in a sharp breath as a piece of wood embedded itself into his palm. His hand stung and throbbed, and Nathan stared at the large splinter in disbelief.

“Is something wrong?” Audrey asked at his pause.

“Splinter,” he said absently, unable to look away.

“A lesser woman would say I told you so.” Audrey came over and studied his hand critically. “Come inside, and we'll see about getting it out.”

Nathan let her lead him to the house. For some reason he couldn't define, he avoided telling her about feeling the pain.

XXX

Nathan found it hard to concentrate at work the next day. Through the night, he had experienced two brief sensations of feeling, making it impossible to deny what was happening. The Troubles were ending.

He glanced over at his partner. Audrey was sitting at her desk writing a report. Her brow was furrowed in thought, and she tapped her pen rhythmically against the desk. The sight was so familiar, he felt a wave of affection.

Audrey had arrived with the start of the Troubles, but it felt as if she'd been there forever.

Nathan was still watching her when a thought made his stomach clench and turn. This wasn't the first time she had arrived with the Troubles. Every time the Troubles came to Haven, Audrey appeared. She helped the afflicted until the Troubles went into remission and then she disappeared. Each time, she came back as a new person, with a new set of memories—none of them her own. She never aged and, if the Teagues were to be believed, she never knew that she wasn't who she claimed to be. There was no way of knowing who she really was or what happened to her between times of Troubles. As far as anyone knew, the person she was ceased to exist.

If the Troubles were ending, he was going to lose Audrey.

Almost as if she could sense something was up, Audrey turned away from her screen to look at him. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Nathan replied, hoping he sounded as if he meant it.

He obviously failed because her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Just tired,” Nathan assured her.

“Okay.” She searched his face for a moment before going back to work.

Nathan couldn't stop staring at her. His chest felt so tight he could barely breathe. Slowly, he memorized every feature, wondering if there was anything he could do to stop her from leaving. Had anyone tried to stop it before?

“You're staring,” Audrey commented without looking at him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled before adding in his normal tone, “What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?”

“Why?”

“I think we should go fishing.”

XXX

The next day, Audrey was waiting for him outside of The Gull, seated on the steps that led up to her loft. Her jeans were ripped and faded, and she was wearing an FBI cap. There was a large basket beside her that Nathan hoped held lunch.

He had to smile to himself at how young she looked as she grabbed her basket and jumped to her feet. Her eyes sparkled as she made her way over to him, and he could have watched her face all day.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

Tucking the basket behind the seat, she asked, “So, where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

“Sounds mysterious.”

“It's quiet. Lots of fish.”

“You know, I don't think I've ever been fishing before.”

Not _'I've never been fishing before'_. It was a subtle difference but an important one. Nathan thought about how hard it must be for Audrey. He had his Trouble, but at least he could remember who he was and where he'd been. To have someone else's memories in your head and to have to question everything about yourself must have been terrifying, but Audrey handled it with courage and grace. It was one of the things he admired most about her.

“You'll like it,” he said, forcing his thoughts back to their conversation.

They talked a little as they drove, but mostly they sat in comfortable silence. Audrey looked relaxed and untroubled, which was completely the opposite of the first time she rode in his truck. Three years and hundreds of experiences separated then from now. The last few years had been hard, but Nathan wouldn't trade or change them. They had given him Audrey.

The truck bounced as he turned down an old and rutted dirt road. It was more of a rocky path, and the evergreens pushed in on both sides. Their branches scraped along the side of the truck and tried to poke into the open windows like fingers.

Two minutes later, the trees opened up to a small lake. As Nathan stopped and shut off the truck, squirrels chittered at him from the trees, and he could hear the rusty-hinge cry of several blue jays.

The wildlife provided the only other sounds as Nathan and Audrey got out of the truck. She grabbed the basket while he reached for the fishing poles and tackle box.

“It's pretty here,” she commented.

“Yeah,” Nathan agreed. 

He remembered fishing there with his father. It was funny. Somehow after he'd grown up, he had forgotten all the things his father had done right. Everything that had gone wrong between them had seemed so large and overwhelming. After his father died, the little things started coming back to him—his father staying with him when he was sick, taking him fishing, and helping him with his homework. He only wished he hadn't been too blinded by anger to see what mattered in time to reconnect.

“Nathan?”

“My father loved this place.”

She squeezed his arm sympathetically, and the touch thrilled him, not just because it was Audrey's but because he could feel it at all. Audrey wasn't really a touchy-feely person with anyone but him. Nathan understood that she made a point to touch him often because she knew hers was the only touch he could feel. It was another thing he loved about her.

He was going to miss her so much.

Nathan quickly turned away to hide his expression and headed to the lake. He wanted to forget that the Troubles were ending and what that could mean for his relationship with Audrey. For just one day, he wanted to be two best friends out fishing. 

“So, what's in the box?” Audrey asked, matching her stride to his.

“Hooks, lures, the usual.”

“Casting isn't too hard is it?” she asked. “Am I going to end up with a hook in my ear?”

Nathan chuckled. “Don't worry. I'm a good teacher.”

“I hope so. My aim was perfected with guns not fishhooks.”

“Look at it this way, you're most likely to hook me, and I won't feel it.” He didn't want to consider that he actually might.

Her eyes laughed, though her face remained serious. “Yes, there is that.”

They settled on the bank, and Nathan showed her how to prepare her line and put the lure on her hook. She chose a black and white spiral that Nathan had always had lots of success with. Despite her claims not to have fished before, Audrey performed all the tasks he showed her with graceful efficiency.

“Did you enjoy fishing when you were a little boy?” she asked, making an almost perfect cast on her first try.

“It was the only time I really felt close to the Chief,” he admitted. “We'd come up here for hours. We didn't talk much and I didn't catch many fish, but...”

“I don't have any memories like that,” Audrey said, shaking her head.

“Do you think you were always an orphan?” Nathan blurted, immediately wishing he'd bitten his tongue.

She frowned. “I don't know. It would make sense. Hell, I don't even know if I'm the one who chooses them.”

Her line jerked, and Nathan was glad for the distraction. He talked her through reeling in her catch and smiled as her expression got more and more excited.

“So, why exactly did you want to go fishing today?” she asked as he grabbed the small trout to take off of her hook.

He shrugged, putting the fish on the ground between them so he could avoid her eyes. “Thought it would be fun.”

She smirked in challenge. “You know what would make it more fun?”

This time he did meet her gaze. Raising his eyebrows, he asked, “What?”

“A little wager.”

“What kind of wager?”

“The person who catches the least amount of fish has to cook supper.”

“You're on, Parker. I hope you know where your frying pan is.”

“Big words, Wuarnos, for a man who hasn't caught a fish yet.”

Audrey threw out her line, and they continued to banter a few more minutes before letting the solemn trees lull them into silence. As it settled around them, the birds and squirrels got louder. Nathan relaxed and tried to forget that his sense of touch was returning, that he had actually felt Audrey's trout struggling for almost a full second. Peace slowed his breathing and made him drowsy. Beside him, Audrey sighed in contentment.

Fishing had been a very good idea, maybe even one of his best.

XXX

Nathan spent most of the afternoon sneaking glimpses of Audrey to assure himself she was still there. He had felt his fishing pole in his hand twice and hadn't been able to lose himself in their activity (or often non-activity) for more than ten minutes at a time.

He needed to remember this day, so he filed it away carefully in his mind.

Around five, they started packing up, calling their competition a draw. Nathan was just about to ask who was going to make the sacrifice and cook when Audrey stopped what she was doing and folded her arms.

“Nathan.”

“What?”

“What's wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You've been acting strange all day.”

“Strange?”

“Nathan,” she repeated, frowning.

He sighed and went to put the tackle box and poles in the back of his truck.

When she didn't follow, he turned back to her. “Are you coming?”

“Are you going to answer?” she countered.

“I can feel,” he blurted.

Her arms fell. “You can?”

He nodded. “And it scares the hell out of me.”

She came over and picked up his hand. Carefully, she studied it, trailing her fingertips over his palm, as if the answers were written there.

“When did this happen?” she asked softly.

“It's not all the time. It's more like...” he trailed off.

“Spurts?” she answered for him, still looking at his hand.

“Yeah. I felt the first one yesterday, and I've been feeling them on and off since.”

Her gaze came up to meet his. “What do you think it means?”

“This is the way it ended...last time.”

“You remember?”

“It's not something you forget.”

“So, do you think our lack of Troubled cases...”

Nathan just nodded.

“This is a good thing, Nathan.” She squeezed his hand before releasing it. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, shoving his hands into his pockets, but he knew his doubt was in his voice.

“Then why...” Understanding came over her face and into suddenly troubled eyes.

“Yeah,” he said again.

Audrey swallowed. “Maybe it won't happen this time. Maybe it's over.”

As much as he was afraid to lose Audrey, he could imagine how much scarier this must be for her. To know that the person you were and all that you know would cease to exist, that you could wake up one morning as someone else.. The only thing comparable Nathan could think of was living with a terminal illness.

There was no fear on Audrey's face, but there were slight traces of it in her eyes.

“We could talk to Vince about Sarah. Maybe he knows how it happened, if she knew how to stop it,” he suggested.

Audrey nodded slowly. “There's got to be a way to fight it. There has to be.”

“We'll figure something out. We can stop this.” He sounded almost sure of himself. The truth was, he wasn't sure of anything. “Come on. Let's head back. We'll go see Vince on our lunch break tomorrow.”

They finished putting their stuff in the truck in silence and climbed in. Nathan was disappointed that a layer of gray now covered their sunshiny day. Still, he was determined to salvage at least some of it. On the way back to town, he decided to try to improve Audrey's mood by telling her a silly story. He knew he had at least partially succeeded when he saw her smile.

XXX

Nathan was bleary-eyed when he got to work the next morning. He had been awake most of the night, unable to sleep because of the sensation of his sheets rubbing against his skin.

The new day made him feel a little more positive. He was glad he had shared his fears with Audrey. Together maybe they could figure out how to keep her from losing herself again. They had determination, now all they needed was a plan of action.

The office was dark when he walked in, so Nathan turned on the light. He frowned a bit because Audrey was almost always early and his sleepless night had made him a little late.

He blew on his coffee as he turned on their computers, aware that for the first time in years he didn't need Audrey to check the temperature for him. It was odd to realize he was slightly disappointed by that. 

When a half an hour went by with no Audrey, Nathan began to wonder if he should be worried. He decided to call Vince Teague and see if Audrey had gone to the newspaper office before coming to work.

“Hello.” Vince's voice was friendly and cheerful.

“It's Nathan.”

“Good morning, Nathan. Am I in trouble?”

The question took Nathan by surprise. “Did you do something wrong?”

“Not to my knowledge, but I led a wild youth. It could be catching up to me.”

He chuckled. “Not yet. I'm looking for Audrey. Have you seen her?”

Nathan knew that Vince cared deeply for Audrey, and he knew it was because of Sarah. He suspected that Vince had been in love with her—and that love may even have been reciprocated—but he didn't know for sure because Vince rarely talked about her.

“Not this morning.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Puzzled, Nathan hung up and dialed Audrey's apartment. He waited with increasingly deteriorating patience as he heard ring after ring. After ten rings and not even her voice mail picking up, Nathan decided to go over and check on her. He was still trying not to worry, but his chest and stomach were tightening with every second.

He made it to The Gull in record time, forgetting for just a few minutes how police officers who broke the law annoyed him. Duke was outside changing the specials, and he looked up as Nathan parked beside him.

“Good morning.” Duke's voice was cheerful but it lacked Vince Teague's sincerity.

“Hi,” Nathan said tersely, “I'm looking for Audrey. Have you seen her this morning?”

“Nope.”

As Nathan mounted the stairs to Audrey's apartment, he pushed down an ever-increasing feeling of dread. There were many reasons why Audrey might not have arrived at work on time and forgotten to call. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe she had to do an emergency grocery or drug store run. Maybe she had decided to stop waiting for Nathan to make up his mind and had a sleepover at some other man's house. That last possibility hurt, but not nearly as much as the alternative Nathan refused to even consider.

The door was ajar. He took this in with forced calm and knocked lightly.

“Audrey?”

There was no answer and no sound of movement. Trepidation made his actions slow and jerky as he pushed on the door. It opened silently and Nathan walked inside.

The room was empty.

No, that wasn't right. It was more than empty. There was furniture—a table, chairs, a neatly made bed—but there was nothing else. There were no personal items of any kind, nothing that he recognized as Audrey's.

Stunned, he moved further into the room. It had a sterile smell, as if it had been newly cleaned. The top of the dresser was bare, and the few pictures Audrey had hung were gone.

Nathan went into the kitchen and opened the first cupboard. Audrey's plates and bowls had been there, but now it was empty. His stomach turned as he quickly opened the rest, one after another, to find nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was as if no one had ever eaten there.

Fighting off panic, Nathan hurried to the dresser and started yanking out drawers. Still nothing. The band across his chest tightened as he frantically ripped open her closet.

“No,” he said quietly. “No...no...no...not yet...”

Desperate to find something, anything, of Audrey's to show she had existed, Nathan searched the whole apartment with trembling fingers. The texture of everything he touched was almost overwhelming. He hated that he could feel, hated what it meant.

The people who had cleaned the apartment had been very thorough. Not a speck of dust or a spark of Audrey remained. She was completely gone.

After searching the place for the third time, Nathan could no longer stand. His legs shook so badly that he lowered himself to the bed. It had been her bed, one he had even shared, but when he brought up the pillow, it no longer held her scent.

She had been erased.

The reality had grief crushing him until he could no longer see the emptiness around him. He hugged Audrey's pillow to his chest, taking shallow breaths.

Duke found him there a couple of hours later. The disbelief in Duke's eyes mirrored Nathan's own. By unspoken agreement, they quietly left, locking the door behind them, and went down to The Gull to have a drink.

XXX

A week later, Nathan found himself once more at the lake. He needed the calm serenity to quiet the noise in his head. Grief and what ifs tried to outshout each other until it was hard to hear anything else.

As he took his fishing pole and tackle box out of his truck, he thought about his final day with Audrey. The left side of his mouth lifted slightly as he remembered her earnest face under her favorite black FBI cap.

He missed her so much.

The day after finding her empty apartment and drinking himself stupid with Duke, he had searched relentlessly for clues to what happened. There was nothing. No trail, no eyewitnesses, not even a stray fingerprint. He went to Vince and demanded answers, but the old man had none to give. Nathan searched for three more days before he had to accept the truth. There was no trail, and Audrey probably wasn't coming back.

That was when the self blame started. Nathan kicked himself for not telling Audry about his suspicions earlier and especially for not spending that last night with her. Maybe he could have done something to prevent her leaving. He'd never know.

Around him, birds sang and the wind whispered as it moved through the trees. Everything seemed the same as the last time he'd been at the lake, except this time he was alone.

The memory of Audrey was here, though. He could hear her laughter, see her smile.

The image caused the tight fist squeezing his heart to loosen a little and, for the first time in a week, Nathan let the light in.

He was glad he had known her. As he cast his line, he knew that was one thing he was certain of. She had brought something special into his life.

Quiet surrounded him, and Nathan shut out everything but the memories. Thoughts of Audrey filled him—her skepticism, her belief, her drive to help the Troubled who'd needed her. There had been bad times, but there had been so many more good ones. He would always have those. Because of them, it was all worth it.

And some day, she would be back. Nathan would know she was coming when his nerves stopped working again. Audrey would come back to him a different person on the surface, but on the inside she'd be the same. 

He would be waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to hardlyloquacious for the beta.


End file.
